


The Bookstore

by naturaltrainwreck



Category: Original Work
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-09-17 21:51:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16982466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naturaltrainwreck/pseuds/naturaltrainwreck
Summary: Corinne Ortiz, a short, freckled, curly brown haired stoner who only ever wanted to be accepted for who she was.She fought for what she wanted, she always did.After putting up a fight with her sexist English teacher, she gets sent to the principal's office and meets a herd of black sheep on the way.A punk,a queer boy,a colored girl,a feminist,and a book store .





	1. Stoners = Realists

**Author's Note:**

> Some of these characters were inspired by friends, others are just people I made up in my head.
> 
> * Italics mean thoughts,  
> bold & italics mean the future. *

CORINNE ORTIZ, the feminist.

“You think it'll ever get better?” Corinne questioned her friends who were all sprawled out on the grass of their school's football field.

Zoe shook her head, “Nope,” she chuckled softly, letting some smoke escape past her lips before handing the blunt over to Jax.

“Well.. As long as you have hope that things get better, maybe they will.” Brendon reasoned.

“In your dreams, Bren. In your dreams.” Zoe said softly, her eyes fixated on the blue skies above her.

“Trust me, things will get better! Never in my wildest dreams I would think that the Elijah Nolan would offer to take me out for the night — let alone accept me for who I am!” Brendon insisted.

Brendon was the optimist of the group. Although he was the paranoid queer boy who regularly got shoved into lockers and called names, he still managed to see the light in things. He had that broken look in his hazel eyes — the same look we all had. But his outshone ours, and none of us ever wanted to hurt him in anyway. 

“Elijah Nolan? Really? He's a total asshat!” Corinne argued, venom practically dripping off her tongue. “He doesn't deserve you. Besides — ! Didn't you say it was just a stupid crush?” 

Brendon was taken aback and had a hurt look on his face. Corinne's expression immediately softened when she saw his reaction. 

“I'm sorry.. I'm happy that you're happy, I really am. I just.. He — I'm not the biggest fan of the guy. He doesn't seem trustworthy. I worry about you, y'know?” Corinne mumbled softly, toying with some of the grass that lied beneath her.

Brendon simply nodded with a quiet sigh. 

“Your dream guy has finally showed interest in you, yippee,” Jax said sarcastically, staring at nothing in particular. “Sure, things are starting to look up for you, but think about it. You will never be accepted by the public. You two will never be able to get married. People like us? The rejects, the juveniles, the public disappointments? We never get the happy endings.”

_“Maybe he's right,” Corinne thought to herself._

_“We'll never get our happy endings. We'll never live the life that we deserve.”_

_“Zoe, a girl that no one will admit is beautiful because of her dark skin.”_

_“Brendon, a thin, queer boy, who gets called a ‘fag’ and gets beat up on the daily.”_

_“Jax, constantly gets criticized for the clothes he wears. Finding razor blades that were slipped into his locker by those same people.”_

_“Corinne, a Latina, a daughter of ‘those wetbacks’ as everyone would say.”_

_“A punk,_  
_a queer boy,_  
_a colored girl,_  
_and a feminist.”_

“But I hope it goes well, Brendon. Best of luck to you,” Jax mumbled.

“You have mine too,” Zoe said to Brendon with a smile.

“I would try to talk you out of it, but I know you're not gonna listen.” Corinne sighed, shaking her head. “But good luck.”

**_“I should've talked him out of it.”_ **


	2. English Class

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Corinne puts up a fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i didn't forget about this story . . i just had writer's block . if you read this story before i accidently deleted it , you could probably recall the first chapter of the previous copy to be very similar to this chapter . well , i has to rewrite it because i deleted my drafts . . . oops . 
> 
> but this chapter is slightly different , and better written , i'd like to think .

CORINNE ORTIZ, the feminist.

Corinne was resting her head on her desk, staring at the clock as her English teacher read off the grades.

 

“Mr. Adams, B.”

 

“Miss Anderson, A.”

 

“Miss Bennett, C.”

 

“Mr. Cooper, B.”

 

Time was going painfully slow. It always did. But in Mr. Thompson's class, it seemed like it would go even slower, if that was even possible.

 

“Miss Ortiz, F.”

 

Corinne's head quickly shop up when he announced her grade. Sure, it wasn't that surprising. English was always her weak subject. But now was the worst time to have an F.

 

She raised her hand, and he only glared at her. A nonverbal way to say, “Put your hand down, I'm not done.” Corinne let out a soft groan, going back to resting her head on her desk, waiting for him to finish.

 

Once he was done, she raised her hand again. He simply nodded his head.

 

“Will you be offering extra credit?” Corinne asked hopefully.

 

“Why? You never cared before, Miss Ortiz.”

 

“Well..” She trailed off. “It's football season. Tryouts are next week, and they're not gonna let me on the team with grades like mine.”

 

“Football?” He asked in pure amusement. Corinne stayed silent. “Football?” The English teacher asked once more, on a more serious note.

 

“Yes, football. American football, Mr. Thompson.” Corinne snapped, glaring at him with her brown eyes.

 

“Give it up. They wouldn't let you on the team even if you met the requirements.” He let out a sigh.

 

“What the / hell / is that supposed to mean?” Corinne asked defensively, a hint of anger in her tone.

 

“You're a woman, you're weak. You don't belong in the field. You're good for nothing, don't you get it? The only thing you're good for is working the 10 o'clock shift in the alley, I'll give you that.” Thompson scoffed, “Now, be a dear and go make me a sandwich.” He smiled nastily.

 

Corinne's eyes widened in shock, _”How could he say that?”_ She thought to herself. The girl quickly shook her head, not wanting to let him have the satisfaction of seeing her reaction, she spoke up once more “Whatever, dude. You're just a sexist piece of shit, Mr. Thompson. I pity your wife.” She scowled.

 

It was the English teacher's turn to be shocked, “To the principal's office this instant, young lady!” He shouted, smoke practically seeping through his ears.

 

“Gladly,” Corinne spat, turning on her heel and walking towards the door. Raising her middle finger without looking back, she went out the door, letting it slam behind her.


	3. Punished

CORINNE ORTIZ, the feminist.

Corinne stepped out of the classroom, her fists clenched hard enough for her nails to break through the skin on her palms, walking herself up to the office.

 

“I could kill him!” She yelled in anger, her voice echoing throughout the empty halls. “That good-for-nothing son of a bi—” Corinne as suddenly cut off when she bumped into someone that was coming out of a classroom. “Watch where you're fucking going,” she snarled.

 

“I'm sorry,” the boy said in a quiet voice. “I didn't mean to.”

 

Corinne frowned slightly when she heard the sincerity in his voice. “It's . . fine.” She said, matching her tone with his.

 

He was short, thin, with the most delicate hazel eyes she had ever seen, he was so fragile and innocent.

 

Corinne shook her head and walked away, going to the office.

 

“Ah, Miss Corinne. Back so soon?” The office lady greeted, who Corinne never cared to learn the name of, despite how often she seen her.

 

“Haha, yeah.” The girl let out a forced laugh.

 

“Mrs. Davis will see you soon, just take a seat.”

 

Corinne nodded, “Sure thing,” she muttered as she followed her demands.

 

She looked to her left, seeing a guy wearing a black denim jacket that covered his lanky figure and pants that were three sizes too small, and a pair of beat up doc martens. Covered head to toe in various chains and pins, with a full head of black hair to top it all off. 

 

“Are we going to have a problem?” The boy said defensively.

 

Corinne furrowed her brows, “What the fuck did I do? Man, I'm seriously not in the mood for this bullshit.” 

 

“And you think I am?” He retorted. “I—”

 

“- Mr. Jackson Bryar, please step into my office.” Miss Davis, the school's principal, interrupted the hushed argument.

 

He stood up and disappeared into the room and Corinne awaited her turn.

 

Soon enough, it was her turn when she had another pleasant interaction with the punk.

 

“Later,” Jackson scoffed at Corinne as he walked out of the principal's office and back to class. 

 

“Miss Corinne Ortiz, come in.” Mrs. Davis said, but Corinne wasn't listening, instead, glared at Jackson, burning holes into the back of his head. “Miss Ortiz,” the principal repeated, this time in a firmer manner. 

 

Corinne looked up at the middle age woman, not saying a word.

 

“Please, come in.” Mrs. Davis urged. 

 

“Right . . “ The brown haired girl mumbled, getting up and seating herself in the office. 

 

“So I was informed there were some . . problems in class today?” The principal questioned.

 

“Yeah, there was.” Corinne nodded, “Mr. Thompson was being a cun—had said some things that I didn't agree with, and I defended myself.” 

 

“I wouldn't call that defending yourself, Miss Ortiz. What you did was disrespectful and far from necessary.” Davis reasoned.

 

“‘Disrespectful’, ‘far from necessary’? Are you kidding? If anybody was being disrespectful, it was him.” Corinne argued.

 

“You added fuel to the fire—"

 

“—And how could I not? He made a degrading comment about how I will be used as a sex object and nothing more. How is that okay? He told me to make him food, like I'm some kind of servant who is expected to wait on him hand and foot!” The girl shouted.

 

“You made a scene. For that, I am talking away your art class, and moving you into study hall and library assistance the bookstore.” 

 

“This is bull. You, of all people- a woman, should understand where I am coming from. Because I bet you deal with this sexist shit every single day.  Parents, random people on the street, higher power. You get it, I know you do. You're just too scared to take a stand . . A disappointment to woman everywhere.” Corinne said softly, shaking her head and seeing herself out of the office and heading towards the campus library-bookstore hybrid.

**Author's Note:**

> mediocre writing at it's best.


End file.
